Behind His Mask Homeless Man Song
This is a song about the plight of a homeless man, about human resilience and about liberty. I'd like to dedicate this song to Johnny, may you rest in peace.
Behind His Mask
Do you see the old man under the bridge.
Siting there with a suitcase in his hand?
He's been drinking there for years and years;
And whenever he's tired he just beds down on the sands.
Does anybody know him?
Can someone please tell me his name?
Because whenever I see him walking through the city;
He keeps his head down in shame.
He's a refugee.
Or is he just another shipwreck of society's.
Looks like he's a rebel;
Penting up the angers from his past.
He lives in a fantasy;
The empty bottles are escapes from his reality.
Bums around wearing a loner's mask.
The morning sun's an awakening misery.
No doubt another awful day.
Cramped from the cold, misty, whispering night;
Doesn't want to go but he knows that he cannot stay.
Stumbles to the ground then on his hands and knees.
Mud dripping off of his face.
Tears draw lines down street-wise cheeks;
He cries out "Somebody help me please."
"I'm a refugee.
And I'm hiding from the scorns of this society.
I'm in a lot of trouble;
Because I'm drifting at sea with a broken mast.
While everybody's judging me.
I'm just trying to find my own destiny.
Looks about time to put on my 'keep-away-from-me' mask.
Years of living in the back-alley worlds;
Distorts even the clearest minds.
The never-ending struggle to go on surviving;
Leaves any dreams far behind.
Today is another bad memory;
And the tomorrows will all be the same.
He gets so sick and tired of playing in a losing game;
Dear Lord, can't you take away his pain.
When I heard about the old man from under the bridge;
Who died there just the other day.
I showed up at his Sally-Ann service;
Where the Captain tried but he didn't know how to say;
That there's a new star's light shining on the world;
Because a tortured soul has been set free.
He spent his final moments scribbling in the sand;
"I think I see, my liberty."
Look way up at the refugee.
Can't you see the castaway from society?
No wonder he was a rebel.
He's been carrying all the hurts from his past;
It's a twisted fantasy.
Doing what he can to escape his own reality.
From up above beams down a man, behind his mask.
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Thank you for caring about York Region's most vulnerable residents.